Big City Tabby
by iheartgod175
Summary: Punkin' Puss receives a letter from a long forgotten friend, and in the letter is an invitation to spend a week in the big city. Deciding to take a break from his feud with Mushmouse, he accepts the offer and heads out to the city. Throw in fancy parties, beautiful girls, family drama and good old-fashioned feuding, and it'll be one week they'll never forget!


**A/N:** So...

Yeah, I don't know what kind of thoughts were going through my head when I came up with this. I was just sitting on my iPad, watching cartoons, and out of the blue I felt like drawing Punkin' Puss. Next thing I know, I feel like writing something about him, specifically "What would happen if Punkin' Puss had a rich friend?". I've long since decided to just roll with whatever idea hits me when I'm feeling really inspired, so this is kinda what I'm doing.

Plus, I've noticed that there are like NO fics for _Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse_. I know that it's because it's so little known-heck, even I knew very little about it until last year-but I find both of them hilarious and it's a shame that there isn't a lot of fan material. Hopefully, this four-part ficlet does them both justice, even though I wrote this with Punkin' Puss in mind since he's my favorite out of the pair (although Mushmouse gets the honor of being the only mouse out of H-B's cat-and-mouse duos that I love).

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Title:** Big City Tabby

 **Category:** Hanna-Barbera

 **Series:** _Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse_

 **Rating: K**

 **Genre/Tags:** Humor/Friendship/Adventure/Drama

 **Full Summary:** Punkin' Puss receives a letter from a long forgotten friend, as well as an invitation to spend a week in the big city. Deciding to take a break from his rivalry with Mushmouse, Punkin' accepts the invitation, and heads out...not knowing that his rival, Mushmouse, has also tagged along! With fancy parties, beautiful girls, family drama and good old-fashioned feuding, one thing's for sure: it's one vacation neither of them will forget! A multi-shot _Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse_ fic because I felt like it.

 **Disclaimer:** It should be pretty obvious that I don't own _Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse_.

* * *

 **Big City Tabby**

 **Part 1: An Invitation**

 _Ozark Mountain Country, Arkansas_

It was a peaceful day in the Ozark Mountain region of Arkansas, and the weather was perfect for those who wished to hike or do any number of outdoor activities. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and gunshots were ringing through the air, sending many a camper running out of their tents, jumping into the cars and speeding out of the parking lot.

Okay, let's back up a bit. It _had_ been a peaceful day...until the feuding had started at least.

The source of the conflict was a small one-room log cabin, located outside of the forests and sitting on a small cliff. Bullet holes marred the outside, and the window panes were gone, having been long since shattered. Stray bullets flew from every direction imaginable, blowing off tree branches and whatever else. One would be tempted to say that the shooter was completely off if they were trying to shoot at the inside, but a closer look revealed that the ruckus was coming _from_ the inside.

Running through his living room with a smirk on his face and rifle in hand, Punkin' Puss called out, "Come on out, Mushmouse! You all can't hide behind thar forever! I'm in the mood to feud!"

"S-So I've noticed." Punkin's target and lifelong nemesis, Mushmouse, peered out from behind a china plate. His hat was nearly destroyed by the bullets Punkin' had fired. "D-Don't ya reckon we could find somethin' peaceful to do instead of all this feudin'?"

Punkin' scoffed. "Are you kiddin'? Fightin' and a-feudin's what I'm good at!" he said, readying his rifle. "Now, on with the feud!"

Mushmouse sighed. It'd been a good attempt, at least. That quickly became the last thing on his mind as Punkin' Puss shot off his hat, sending a stray hair with it. He screamed and took off running, Punkin''s laughter trailing him.

Someone banged on the door, and Punkin' Puss stopped, groaning. Just as the feud was getting good, too. "Now, who could that be?" he remarked, heading to the door.

The mailman, a tall, gangly man with red hair, stood on the porch, shaking like a leaf with fear. Bullet holes decorated his vest, his hat and even his mailbag. "U-Uh, I-I-I have a letter for a Mr. Punkin' Puss," he said.

Punkin' Puss puffed up with pride with this. "That's me, the boss of these yar hills," he said, taking the letter from the man. He didn't even look up as the mailman took off running, hoping that he wouldn't get shot. "I wonder if it's from Cousin Zeke again."

Mushmouse peered out from behind a plate, curious."What's it say, Punkin'?"

"It don't say nothin', Mushmouse! I has gotta read it first!" Punkin' snapped, tearing open the top of the letter and pulling out a white sheet of paper. He unfolded the paper and took a long hard look at the paper. "Hmm...reckon I don't recognize this person." He cleared his throat and then began to read. "'To my old pal, Punkin' Puss. It has been a long time since we last spoke to each other-heck, I can't remember the last time I sent you a letter talkin' about what I've been up to. I'm holding a party next week in the city and I'd like for you to come; not only will it give my friends a chance to meet you, but it'll also give us a chance to talk. I hope to see you there. Signed, Chester Cheshire.'"

Mushmouse cocked his head, curious. "Chester Cheshire? Sounds like one of them fancy rich folks," he remarked. "I didn't think you even knowed any fancy rich folks."

"Neither did I," Punkin' replied, scratching his head. "But this name sounds mighty familiar, though..." He had few friends around these parts, so he should've remembered this 'Chester Chesire' person. "Maybe I'll look up his name in the directory."

"He said he sent ya some letters, Punkin'," Mushmouse said, watching as Punkin' walked to the phone. "Why don't ya try lookin' for those?"

"Hush up, Mushmouse. I'm tryin' to think!" Punkin' retorted. As soon as he reached the phone book, his eyes widened. "Well, I'll be skinned! He said that he wrote some letters. Reckon I might have some of 'em in my old lockbox!" He rushed into his room, flinging it open. "Why didn't I think of that before?"

"'Cause you didn't! I did!" Mushmouse yelled.

"Jus' like you to take the credit for somethin', Mushmouse," Punkin' said, digging through his lockbox. "Ah-ha! Here's what I'm lookin' fer!" He climbed out of the lockbox, a set of letters in his hand. He nodded as he leafed through most of them. "Now I remember who this feller is."

"Who is he, Punkin' Puss?" Mushmouse asked.

"Nobody important to a small, measly Mushmouse like you," he huffed. "He was from a rich family an' his paw came 'round to look for oil in the Ozarks. He only stayed a few months, though, 'cause his paw couldn't find what they were lookin' for."

"How'd ya meet this feller anyway?"

"I met him at the general store," Punkin' replied. "He was lookin' for some fancy food that they sell in the city, an' they didn't have it here. So I kinda had to show him the ropes. I figured that'd be that, but me an' him got ta talkin' more afterwards. When he left, he said he'd write." Punkin' looked at the letters in his hand. "Comes ta think of it, he did write a lot afterwards, an' I answered most of 'em. Reckon I has one of them short-term memories."

"With you, Punkin', everythin's short-term," Mushmouse said, before snickering.

"Why, you lil' hunk of aggravation!" Punkin' tossed the letters to the side, his face twisted into a fierce expression. "Your bein' here's gonna be short-term, Mushmouse!"

Mushmouse turned around and ran, dodging Punkin's long, outstretched claws. _Reckon I shoulda kept my mouth shut!_

* * *

 _Later that evening..._

Punkin' sighed as he set aside his rifle-the sight had been completely melted from top to bottom. He frowned at it. "Darn that Mushmouse. But I was savin' up my money ta get a new rifle anyhows..." He walked over to the floor, where he saw the stack of letters he'd hastily discarded in order to catch Mushmouse. Scooping them up, he said, "Reckon I oughta write a re-ply back ta Chester. It'd be right uncouth if I didn't."

He walked over to his desk, which had a few pieces of paper sitting out. He slid onto the stool, picked up his pen, but paused. He had a lot of things to talk with Chester about, but he'd end up with a ten page letter if he did so. "Reckon I'll have ta keep it brief...but then he's gonna ask 'bout my comin' to his fancy city party," he muttered.

Punkin' Puss wasn't a fan of the city-it was too loud and crowded, and the people annoyed him with their fancy talking and snobbishness. He probably wouldn't last a day there, just as how Chester almost didn't last a day in the hills. Why, he'd be laughed out of there faster than one could say a tongue twister.

Then again, he did need some time outside of the mountain life. As much as he loved being the "boss of these yar hills", life in the Ozarks could be rather boring sometimes; aside from Chester, he didn't have a lot of friends, and most of the cats that lived around here were his enemies. He wasn't about to go poking around at their doors, as they'd most likely kill him.

And as much as he _loved_ feuding with Mushmouse, everyone needed a little break once in a while.

"Aw, well. Reckon a little vacation would do a feller some good," he remarked, putting the pen to the paper.

* * *

 _Several days later..._

The sounds of gunshots filled the hills for the third time that week as Punkin' Puss, using his new rifle, took shots at Mushmouse through the front window of his house, cackling as he watched the mouse scurry for cover every time he destroyed the china plates that lined the wall. "This is more fun than shootin' fishes in a barrel," he remarked.

Mushmouse peered out from another china plate. "D-Don't ya think you'd rather do that instead, Punkin' Puss?" he asked.

"That ain't even a challenge!" Punkin' replied. "'sides, I could use the practice. An' since I got me this new rifle, I'll have lotsa time to practice!" He laughed before taking aim and shooting at Mushmouse again.

The china plate Mushmouse had been hiding behind exploded into pieces. "Can't you practice on somethin' else asides from me, Punkin'?" he puffed as he ran.

Punkin' was about to answer that when someone shouted, "I've got a letter here for Punkin' Puss!"

Punkin' paused to face the mailman; he'd actually dared to step in the yard this time, although he was still shuddering with fear. Getting up from his chair, Punkin' said, "That's me, mister. Wonder if it's one o' those sweepstakes I've been gettin' in the mail."

"Kinda fancy to be a sweepstakes, though," the mailman replied, handing him the letter.

Punkin' looked at the letter in confusion at first, only for his eyes to widen when he saw the person who'd addressed it to him. "Hoo-wee! I forgot that this feller replies fast," he said, heading back inside his cabin. "Mushmouse, practice is over for today. I've got some im-portant business to take care of."

"Good," Mushmouse remarked. "With your two left eyes, you'd fill everythin' with holes!"

Punkin' paid no attention to Mushmouse's remark, as he was busy reading the letter he'd received.

 _To my old pal Punkin' Puss,_

 _I was wondering when you'd reply to my letter; I had sent it a week ago and after hearing no word, I thought you hadn't gotten it! Either way, I'm glad to hear from you, and I'm even happier to hear that you'll be coming to town! I'm sure that you'll enjoy your weekend here, although I'll happily show you the ropes.  
_

 _See you soon,_

 _Chester Cheshire_

Punkin' folded up to the letter with a smile. Mushmouse stared at him in surprise. "Uh, so what'd it say, Punkin'?"

"Well, Mushmouse, looks like your gonna have this here house all to yerself this week," Punkin' said. "I'm headin' up to the city!"

Mushmouse stared at the cat with wide eyes. "Y-You is?"

"Yup. Those big city folks won't know what hit 'em when ol' Punkin' Puss walks in thar!" he said, strutting into his room.

Mushmouse sighed. "They sure won't Punkin'...an' they won't have much time to recover, either!" he remarked.

If Punkin' heard his comment, he didn't react; he was concentrating on gathering his clothes for his trip. Mushmouse walked into the room, seeing that the cat was tossing everything that was into his closet in his suitcase. "So, how long are you gonna be in the city, Punkin'?"

"Wasn't you payin' attention, Mushmouse? I'm gonna be spendin' the week thar!" Punkin' Puss replied. He slammed his suitcase shut. "I'd better check to see if I've still got some money left..." He picked up his money jar, which had a few dollars inside, and sighed. "Shoot. This ain't even enough ta hitch a train. Reckon I'm gonna need a loan of some sort." He turned to Mushmouse. "You stay here. An' don't even think of takin' anythin' out of that thar jar, neither."

"Alrighty, Punkin' Puss," Mushmouse said sweetly, bobbing lightly on his toes.

Punkin' Puss groaned, but didn't say anything else as he left the room.

As soon as he was sure he was gone, Mushmouse climbed up to the top of the bed and lifted up the top of Punkin's suitcase. He chuckled as he stuffed himself into the pockets. "Punkin' Puss ain't gonna be the only one ta enjoy the city," he said. "I aims ta make the most of this trip, too...an' possibly make a big fool outta that ornery cat." He snickered as he ducked into the pockets, the lid closing.

Thirty minutes later, Punkin' Puss returned to his room, a wad of cash in his paw and a wide grin on his face. "Ol' Slowfoot Sam never fails ta keep his end of a bargain," he said. He looked around the room. "Don't see that pesky Mushmouse anywhere. Reckon he's in his mousehole." He slammed the suitcase shut, and picked it up, heading for the door. "About time that mouse learned his place. I'll be glad ta get away from that varmit for a week."

He closed the door and headed down the hill. "Now on with the trip!" he said, swinging his suitcase.

* * *

Mushmouse groaned as he was jerked back and forth inside the suitcase as Punkin' Puss continued walking. "Ooh, I shouldn't have ate that cheese sandwich before gettin' in here..."

* * *

 _Several hours later..._

 _"Attention all passengers. We have now arrived at Regional Station."_

Punkin' Puss sighed as he got up and picked up his suitcase. "High time we got here," he muttered. He got down from his chair, only to wobble unsteadily on his feet. "Reckon that chair was a bit _too_ comfortable."

He exited the train with the rest of the passengers, and looked around the platform, his eyes scanning for any sign of his taller friend. He looked at the sign that read "Apex City Platform B". "Funny, I know I told 'im that I was comin' to this station..."

 _"Punkin' Puss!"_

Punkin' Puss turned around to face whoever had shouted his name-and was almost knocked down when he was tackled into a hug. "What in the name of-"

"Oh, I'm so glad you made it!" the person said. "For a moment, I thought you weren't coming!"

Punkin' Puss's eyes widened. In fact, he should've recognized the voice from the accent alone. "Chester!" he replied. "What'd I tell ya 'bout jumpin' a hillbilly cat? Iffin' I had my rilfe, you would've been shot!"

"Heh, sorry about that," Chester replied. He was a golden furred cat with orange stripes running through his arms. He had tiger-like stripes along his face that abruptly cut off near his bright white muzzle, and his fur was flipped out neatly in waves on both sides of his face. He was wearing a dark blue jacket and black shirt, along with a gold chain necklace. "I forgot that you hate being taken by surprise." His bright blue eyes gleamed with delight. "Oh, but you won't believe the stories that I have to tell you! Did you have a good journey? Nobody was bothering you during the ride, right? If they did, I'll sue them! And did you enjoy the catering? I admit, I wasn't too fond of the food the last time I went on that train, but-"

" _Chester_ ," Punkin' Puss said, holding up a paw to quiet the other male. "Ya've gotta give me a chance ta answer first!"

"Again, my apologies," Chester replied, sheepishly.

"Firstly, I had a pretty good journey, though the hills were right tricky ta get through. Second, one feller tried ta throw me off the train, but I showed him a thing or two, so no need ta sue 'em. An' thirdly, the food was pretty good. Wasn't my maw's cookin', an' some of the portions were right small, but they tasted good nonetheless."

"Ah, I see. That's standard fare on those trains," Chester said, walking with him towards the station. "I hate the small portions, too. That's one thing I certainly didn't miss when my father and I stayed the Ozarks."

Punkin' chuckled. "I recollect the time you had my famous red-eyed gravy an' smoked ham, and mashed taters," he said. "You had three helpin's of that."

"I couldn't help it! It was good. It was worth the calories," Chester said.

"Well, reckon I could whip up a lot more than jus' red-eyed gravy an' smoked ham," Punkin' replied.

"You can?" Chester said.

"Why sure!" Punkin' said, puffing his chest out with pride. "There's Ozark berry cobbler, beans and ham hocks, skillet cornbread, hummin'bird cake, an' my personal favo-rite, gooseberry pie. By the time I leave this place, you's gonna have a brand new taste towards food!"

"Oh, I can hardly wait to try it," Chester said. He sighed. "If only my father could appreciate comfort food like that. He'd freak out if he learned I was eating it."

"Aw, come now, Chester. Don't tell me you're still livin' with your paw," Punkin' retorted.

"Of course not! I moved out several months ago to an apartment not far from where I used to live," he said.

Punkin' Puss raised an eyebrow. "Not far, huh?"

"Mother won't let me move to the North Side," Chester said. "She doesn't want me to be too far away from her or Father because of his bad hip...and she doesn't feel comfortable with me being far away."

"Well, I reckon I can understand that a little. But don't ya think they're controllin'?" Punkin' Puss asked.

"COntrolling? Absurd!" Chester replied, raising his head high into the air, an indignant look on his face. Normally, such actions like that offended him, but Punkin' Puss knew Chester well enough to know that he did it out of anger, not arrogance. "How could you suggest such a thing, Punkin' Puss?"

"Well, from how you talks about them, it seems like they are," Punkin' replied.

"Sometimes, they can be a little...overprotective," he said. "But I am their only son, after all, and they've always acted like that ever since I was a child. So I can't blame them too much." He clapped a paw on the orange cat's shoulder. "But enough of that! I've just got some new additions to my apartment, and I know for sure that you're going to love it! And afterwards, there's a really good buffet that you have to try. Come on, it's right this way!"

Punkin' Puss didn't get much of a say as he was dragged along towards a crosswalk. _I forgot how right excitable this fella was..._

* * *

 _A little while later..._

Chester unlocked the door to his apartment, setting down Punkin's luggage as he did so. "Thankfully, I got that obnoxious smell of paint out of the apartment; it was lingering for days afterwards," he said. "But I was not keeping that old wallpaper; it was terribly outdated and cheap!"

"Uh, Chester, are you gonna stand around talkin' or are ya gonna invite me inside?" Punkin' Puss said. The other male had been keeping up a steady stream of chatter ever since they'd approached the crosswalk. And while Punkin' Puss didn't mind it (and it wasn't as if he could say anything if he _did_ mind), he wasn't liking the other tenants' stares as they'd come up the stairs.

"Eheheh, sorry," Chester said. He pushed the door open and then turned on the lights. He stepped aside so the other male could enter. "Come on in! You're always welcome in my house!"

Chester's apartment was large-not as large as Punkin' had thought it was going to be, but big enough. It was colored a light cream color, and the lights that studded the ceiling looked like a cluster of stars. The kitchen was decorated with granite tabletops, and had brand new stainless steel appliances, such as a double door refrigerator, dishwasher and a new glass-top stove. Directly across from the kitchen was the living room, which had a large, white sectional sofa, a small white square table, a long, rectangular bookcase, and a flatscreen television. Outside was a small patio with two chairs and another table.

Punkin' Puss' jaw was on the floor.

This was not an exaggeration in any way.

Chester chuckled when he saw the other cat's face. "You might want to close your mouth before it gets locked like that," he said. "So, what do you think?"

"This was a modest size?" Punkin' Puss said, looking around. "What kind of apartments do they have on the North Side, then?"

"Oh, they vary. Some are smaller than this, about the size of regular apartment rooms, while others are massive. And by massive I mean it's way bigger than this," he said.

"Well, I'll be dogged..."

"The main reason I wanted to move to the North Side was because of commute," Chester said. "My job is over there and it takes fifty minutes to get there-and that's on a day with traffic."

"You work?" Punkin' Puss asked. "I thought you was one of them inheritin' types."

"Well, I'm pretty sure my father has left me some sort of inheritance," Chester said. "But I'd rather make my own money rather than keep my parents' wealth and squander it all. That's what most rich cats my age do, after all." He walked over to the small cabinet in the corner of the living room and opened it up, producing two glasses. "Do you like brandy?"

"Uh, you got a soda or somethin'? I can't hold alcoholic-type drinks on an empty stomach," Punkin' said. In truth, he really did want a glass, but he knew how he went with any type of alcoholic beverage-one drink was never enough.

"Sure. I've got some root beer in the fridge," Chester said, pouring a small amount of brandy into his glass. "I do hope you don't feel out of place here. I have a cousin who lives in the suburbs and he was absolutely overwhelmed when he came here."

"Well, it's much fancier than what I'm used to," Punkin' admitted. "But I'm jus' glad you ain't one of those uppity city catses that would've tossed me out."

"If I were like that, we wouldn't be friends," Chester said.

"We sure enough wouldn't!" Punkin' said, pulling out a bottle of root beer.

"Proper is one thing. Snobbish is a different thing entirely," Chester retorted, before sipping his brandy. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. "I've known several cats all my live, and they've acted like that even when we were kids. But a part of me could never be like that, and personally I think I'm better off without that attitude. But some people look down on me for it." He swirled his glass, his eyes becoming contemplative. "Especially my father."

"Your paw, huh?" Punkin' Puss answered.

There was a knock on the door before Chester could reply. "Speak of the devil," he ground out, before setting his glass down and walking over to the door. He cleared his throat and opened the door. He smiled at the person on the other end, but one could tell it was forced. "Father. What brings you here?"

"The usual, Chester," the other male answered, making his way inside his son's apartment. He was two feet taller than his son, and he was covered in light brown fur. He wore a dark blue suit and a light blue tie, and his white hair was curled up around the top. "Your mother should be here in a few, although she insisted on-" He paused upon seeing Punkin' Puss. His cobalt blue eyes narrowed into a hard line. "What are _you_ doing here?" he snapped.

"H-Howdy thar, Mr. Cheshire," Punkin' Puss said, tipping his hat towards the older cat. He wasn't happy about seeing him either, but he had to break the ice. "Reckon it's been a while since we've talked."

"I was hoping we'd never talk again," Mr. Cheshire said sternly. He turned towards Chester, who was looking for his mother. "Chester. I do believe I told you about what sorts of..." He turned and then glared at Punkin'. "...friends you're expected to have."

"Oh, goodness, why are you bringing this up now, Father?" Chester muttered, finally turning to face his father with a look of tiredness on his face.

"You practically asked me to bring it up," his father snapped. "After all, _you're_ the one who brought this mountain scruff into your home, not me!"

"Mountain scruff?!" Punkin' yelled, his eyes wild with anger.

"People like him don't belong with people like you!" his father yelled, still focusing on Chester. "I told you this ever since we were stuck in the Ozarks, following up on a rumor! Not only do those they hate outsiders, but they're opportunistic scoundrels! And he's the worst of them all! I'm amazed he hasn't stolen anything from you already!"

"I ain't stole nothin'!" Punkin' Puss said. "You've got a right poor opinion of me, mister, an' I'm not likin' how you're makin' all of these assum-tions!"

With a scoff, the older Cheshire finally turned around to face Punkin' Puss. "Assumptions? Oh, don't make me laugh! You're nothing more than an opportunist, and the only reason you decided to leave the comfort of your precious rundown shack to come up here is so you can get your sticky paws on our possessions," he snapped. "You've been like that ever since you found out we were rich, and that's the way you'll always be!"

Chester's eyes widened with horror. "Father-"

"Iffin' you don't stop speakin', I'm gonna start swingin'!" Punkin' rolled up his sleeves and balled his fists. He was done with the pleasantries; this cat was making him _mad,_ madder than he'd ever been before. "Ain't nobody gonna speak of me like that, 'specially not some uppity rich city cat!"

"Oh ho, so now the claws come out!" Chester's father laughed spitefully. "Well, what are you waiting for? Show me what you're really like!"

"You won't be laughin' when these meet yo' face!" Punkin' Puss said. "An' I'll be right happy to!"

"My goodness! What is this?!" a woman yelled.

Everyone turned to see a yellow and orange furred cat in the doorway, wearing a green suit and a white coat. Her brown eyes were wide with surprise as she moved her son aside and stepped inside, looking from Mr. Cheshire to Punkin' Puss. "Edgar! What is going on in here?" she demanded.

"Mother, you need to tell Father to control his tongue," Chester said finally. He sounded moments away from snapping. "Punkin' Puss, I'd highly advise backing down."

"Back down? How can I back down when he's insultin' me?" Punkin' yelled.

"Punkin' Puss?" she said, looking over at the orange cat. "Isn't he the mountaineer that you told me about, Edgar?"

"No, Cordelia. He's the mountain scruff that Chester 'befriended' during our time in the Ozarks," Mr. Cheshire retorted, looking over at Punkin' just in time to see the cat's face go red. "And now our son has invited him into his apartment."

"Is that so?" She gave Punkin' Puss the once over, and then turned towards Chester. "Chester, how is this possible? Why would you invite someone like this over here?"

"Oh, so now you're going to start on me too?" Chester said, staring down his parents. His eyes blazed with anger. "I'm sorry to disappoint you both, but I'm friends with someone like this, and you're completely wrong about him and how he acts. If you two got to know him, like I did, you'd see that he's not a bad person. He's one of the nicest, funniest people you could meet. And if you insist on insulting him, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Chester!" his mother said. "You can't do that!"

"We're your parents!" his father yelled.

"And this is _my house_! I bought it to escape the two of you!" Chester yelled finally, so loud that he startled a few people outside.

His eyes widened when he realized what he'd said. Punkin' Puss stared at him in shock, his father looked incensed and his mother looked devastated. "Chester..." she whispered.

Avoiding eye contact with his father, Chester continued with, "I'm not going to allow you two to stay here and harass my friend. So, if you have nothing better to do, you can leave."

His mother continued to stare at him with wide eyes, and his father looked ready to explode. Punkin' Puss moved back, wary of the three angry cats glaring at each other.

Finally, Chester's mother took her husband's arm. "Let's go, Edgar," she said. "We'll come back another time."

"But Cordelia-"

 _"Let's go,"_ she urged again, tugging on his arm. "I'm not about to let you two fight anymore, especially not over some-" She paused as she looked at Punkin' Puss, who gave her an angry glare. She quickly turned away and dragged him out the door. "Just come on."

Edgar looked over at his son, who looked half-angry and half-scared. One could imagine the rage on his face. "We'll talk about this later," he uttered coldly. To Punkin' Puss, he said, "This isn't over, mountain scruff."

"It sure ain't," Punkin' Puss retorted. "You's lucky you had yer missus with ya. Iffin' you come back 'round again, I'll be waitin' fer ya!"

Edgar turned around. "Yeah? Next time, I'll show you just how outclassed you are!" he shouted back.

"Father, _get out already_ ," Chester yelled. He didn't bother trying to hide his anger this time. "I'll talk with you over the phone later, but seriously, get out."

With another snarl and another glare towards Punkin' Puss, Edgar and his wife finally left the apartment. Chester slammed the door behind him and then turned to head back into the living room, rubbing his forehead.

"I'm terribly sorry you had to deal with that," he said.

"Now I see why ya said your paw was lookin' down on you," he said. He glared at the door. "Back in the hills, them's words would've meant feudin'."

"Oh, I know what you mean by feuding. I recall your epic feud with Mushmouse," Chester said, walking over to the mini bar and pouring himself another glass of brandy. He downed it in one gulp and swallowed hard, clearing his throat. "Ah, I needed that."

"You alright, Chester?" Punkin' Puss asked. "I mean, you were kinda-"

"I don't want to talk about, alright?" Chester interrupted. His claws dug into the glass. "Can you leave me for a while? I need to cool off. You can go on and get settled in the guest room."

"Uh, where's that?"

"Down the hall, to the right," Chester said, grabbing the bottle and pouring another glass. "It's got its own bathroom, too."

"Are you serious?" Punkin' Puss asked.

A small, tired smile came onto Chester's face as he settled into the couch with a third glass. Punkin' Puss could only hope that he wasn't driving them anywhere-three drinks would be enough to buzz anybody, or plaster them, in his case. "Very. Now you go on. I'll deal with this situation with my father on my own. Are we still on for lunch?"

"You betcha! I haven't had anythin' to eat since I got on the train!" Punkin' Puss picked up his suitcase and walked down the hall. "Appreciate the hospitality here, Chester."

"Oh, think nothing of it. Now go on!"

"Alrighty then!" Punkin' replied, and walked out of the room.

Even as Punkin' Puss made his way towards the guest room, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry. He'd seen Chester get angry before, but never like this. He hoped that he didn't try to drink his anger away. Not only was it hazardous for his health, but it would only make him angrier.

Punkin' snarled quietly. Great, now he was angry, and not just at Chester's parents (although they certainly deserved his ire), but also at himself for worrying. If there was one thing he hated more than Mushmouse, it was being worried, whether it was about anyone or anything. He had a rather nasty habit of getting involved in others' business when he was worried, which had gotten him into trouble. It was the main reason he found it difficult to really relate with others, and several had called him heartless when they didn't know his internal struggle.

He knew Chester didn't want to talk about the drama with his parents. But he'd seen how Chester's parents had reacted when they'd seen him. He'd seen Chester's reaction to his parents' insults against him-Chester hardly if ever got enraged, but hearing what the cat had said to his own parents had worried him.

And he knew that he'd be seeing a lot more of this drama...and it'd be harder to keep this to himself.

He sighed as he set the suitcase down on the king-sized bed. "Reckon it's times like this that makes me wish I stayed in the hills," he said.

He opened his suitcase, only to encounter a hideous surprise. In the center of his array of clothes was a _very_ familiar face, green as his own shorts with nausea. Light brown eyes, half-lidded with tiredness, looked up at him. And despite looking ready to hurl all over his clothes, the mouse's face twitched to form a wan smile.

"...High time you opened the suitcase, Punkin' Puss..."

 _"MUSHMOUSE?!"_

 **End of Part 1**

* * *

 _ **This is going to turn out well :)**_

 _ **I know I have some stories to update...but most of my focus is going towards my final projects for the semester, and it's kinda sucking the energy I need to finish my other stuff. This is kinda like a stress reliever so that I don't go crazy when I'm working on my finals. Not that I wouldn't have published the story if I weren't doing a final project...but it's a lot better than working on a school project while you're itching to write.**_

 ** _I had a blast writing this, though. I was doing some research on the mountain life, both in the Appalachian region and the Ozark region, and reading about what both sides go through due to the American image of mountain people partly inspired Chester's parents' attitudes, although the rest of it's just pure snobbishness. However, I did hint that there was a little more going on with both Chester and his parents than just that, as well as some interesting development for Punkin' Puss; I kinda prepped up the TVTropes page this weekend because this story was all I could think of and I wanted to add some details regarding how Punkin' turns out in this story._**

 ** _And while Punkin', being my second favorite H-B cat besides Tom, was awesome to write in this story, I'm really looking forward to writing more of Chester. I had to be really careful to not turn him into a Marty Stu; sure, he's a nice guy towards others, but there's more to his personality than being talkative, as this part showed. And there's more to his family, too-and you'll see why this story's rated K+ (hopefully, it won't go farther than that)._**

 ** _*sighs* And this story was supposed to be lighthearted. I've been watching too many soaps lately. Spanish soaps, to be exact._**

 ** _This story's only supposed to be a few chapters long...but as my friend Vulaan Kulaas said, I need to be careful with my future fics lest they turn into "Blazin' Trails"-like epics. XD_**

 ** _Next chapter will hopefully focus on both Mushmouse and Punkin' Puss, as well as their crazy city adventures. Let's hope Punkin' doesn't steal the show again :)_**

 ** _Thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys around soon!_**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


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